The Touch 0f Her Hand (Highlander Heroes Book 1)

by Rebecca Ruger

  John’s eyes creased a bit at this, but he said, stroking his beard, “I’ve never seen him like this.” And after a moment, “I’d call ‘em blessed, but for that Munro is her father.”

  “Aye.”

  THE NEXT MORNING, TESS left Conall’s chamber, and vowed she’d returned to her own tower room that night. For now, she wanted to see Bethany. She moved through the main hall and saw only a few people milling about, and walked to the kitchen, not finding Serena or Angus or Bethany anywhere. She approached Eagan, who saw her coming and offered her a jowly grin.

  “Aw, now, lass,” he said when she reached him, “’tis good indeed to see you about.”

  Tess rubbed his arm affectionately and returned his friendly smile. “I was looking for Serena or Bethany or Angus.” She noticed the porridge, which still hung from the kettle at the hearth. She grabbed up a wooden bowl and helped herself with the ladle that remained within the pot. She sat at the lone stool at the counter upon which Eagan worked and broke her fast with the spoon Eagan handed her. “Mm, solid food,” she marveled. “Or nearly solid.” She grinned at Eagan.

  “Good morning, Lady Tess.”

  Tess turned from her morning meal to see two of the kitchen girls, including Moira, the one that had previously loaned Tess a kerchief, entering the kitchens and bobbing their heads at her. They had rarely spoken directly to her before. They smiled at her now.

  “And to you,” she called back to them, her words slow. They went about their work, their arms laden with breads from the bakehouse.

  Tess turned her eyes back to Eagan and felt a tightness just there, behind her eyes and nose. The cook inclined his head and grinned at her, and kept about his work, rolling out an impossibly large mound of dough for what Tess assumed would be the crust for some meat pie.

  “I believe Lady Serena took off for the village,” Eagan informed her, “about finding the mistress Elena who dyes the wools she spins. But I haven’t seen Angus this morn. Now, the child, well she scampered through the kitchen much earlier, but she heard the laird’s voice and went about finding him, I guess.”

  While she ate, she chatted a few more minutes with Eagan, neither one making any mention of her ordeal, for which Tess was thankful.

  “I’ll spend some time in the garden today,” she informed him and inquired, “what can I bring you?”

  His hands, soft and rounded upon a long and thin rolling pin, paused, “I have still the rosemary from last week that you’d brought, but I could do with some winter savory and more thyme, I would think.”

  Soon after, Tess had searched throughout the castle and inner bailey but found none of the three she wanted to see. Deciding to attend the garden as promised, she headed that way. She stepped outside just as the smithy was passing by, his beefy hands filled with dozens of worn iron horseshoes, about to be re-forged, no doubt. He lifted his gaze and tipped his head, “Morn to ye, milady.” Tess’s smile was reflexive but oh, so happy. She greeted him as well, tucking her hands upon her hips, taking in the bustling activity of the yard. She needn’t avoid eyes today.

  When she turned to her garden, she finally saw Angus, walking beside Gregor Kincaid, only a few feet away. Tess noted both Gregor’s slower pace, surely to keep to Angus’s speed, and the basket he swung from one hand.

  “Good morning, Angus,” she called, “and to you as well, my lord.”

  Gregor spoke first, though Angus’s thick brows rose with pleasure. “Just Gregor, lass. Nothing lordly about me, aye?”

  “Morn to you, lass,” Angus said.

  They stopped in front of her. Tess noticed the basket contained about half dozen small perch. She made a face at Gregor, at this sparse offering.

  He laughed, “Ach, now, lass, ‘twas just for fun. We’ll leave the providing fish for the whole castle to those who ken what they’re about, aye, Angus?”

  “Right so, lad. Aye, but it was nice, to wrestle once again with the wee morsels.”

  Tess considered this. With Gregor’s help to situate him upon the banks of the loch, Angus wouldn’t have needed sight to sit and hold a line or pull it in when engaged. She gave a sidelong glance to Gregor, wondering if he, like Conall, was often mistaken as harsh and intimidating merely because of his size and bearing, when in truth they were kind people, who cared about others.

  “Will you join me in the garden for a while?” She asked Angus.

  “In a bit, lass, if you’re still about it. The lad had me torn from me bed before the sun did shine,” he said, looking not at all displeased about this circumstance. “Might have need of a wee lie-down just now.”

  Tess smiled at this and bid them good day, turning once again to her garden.

  The ground was damp, but not muddy, and Tess could see little that required much labor, despite her inattention over the past days. She turned toward the cellar, tilting her head inquisitively as she noticed a nail affixed to the rim of the barrel—which had not been there previously—and saw that her water bucket hung by its rope handle from that nail. Closing in on the barrel, about to reach for the bucket, Tess saw that the barrel was filled near to the brim with water. It hadn’t rained heavily enough to fill the entire barrel, she knew, pressing her fingers to her smiling lips.

  She collected the thyme and savory, as requested by Eagan, but only set her gatherings outside the perimeter as she’d forgotten to bring along her own basket. She knelt carefully upon the moist earth and began to grab at the few weeds, thinking to save herself more work a few days from now. She wasn’t about this too long before she heard Conall’s voice. She didn’t need to turn her head, as he approached on his horse before her. Tess was pleasantly surprised to see Bethany upon the saddle before him, looking even tinier in such proximity to Conall, and atop the great destrier.

  Tess’s breath caught, in amazed but happy response to the smile that Bethany wore, as the big horse trotted them nearer to Tess. She had rarely, if ever, been witness to any expressions save that of inscrutability or outright sadness from Bethany and was captivated by the transformation of the little girl’s face, never recalling a sight more joyful.

  Conall caught sight of Tess and reined in very near to her. He dismounted quickly and swung the still smiling Bethany down from the saddle. Tess imagined a normal child would have cried out with glee as Conall gave her an exaggerated swing in the air before setting her onto the ground. But Bethany, despite her beaming, made not a sound. Happily, though, she rushed immediately to Tess when Conall had released her. She flung her arms around Tess’s neck and squeezed tightly. Tess was astonished, her arms instantly returning the altogether unexpected embrace. Over the child’s head, Tess’s eyes, now watery with joy, asked a question of Conall. He only shrugged, though his smile was equally wonderful, Tess decided.

  She didn’t want to let go. Ever. But Bethany loosened her hold and stared at Tess as if she had not just done the most miraculous thing. Bethany, meeting Tess’s eyes while she was still on her knees, traced her tiny fingers over the bruise around Tess’s eye.

  “’Tis nothing, sweet,” Tess brushed it off. She was about to make some excuse for it, but Bethany surprised her yet further by opening her mouth as if to speak. Tess’s eyes widened, waiting, her breath caught. But no words emerged, though the child’s expression fell, becoming sad, forcing Tess to realize the child was not deaf, only mute. Just because she didn’t speak, didn’t mean she couldn’t hear. Finally, Tess acknowledged only, “It is done, Bethany. I am well.” After a moment, seemingly mollified by this, the child moved off to a flowering plant and bent her head to sniff at the blooms. Tess sat straight again, still gape-jawed, and watched in wonder, until she felt Conall nearing her. She looked up to see his hand outstretched and placed her own in his before she gave it any thought, allowing him to gently pull her to her feet.

  “Thank you,” she said and mechanically dusted off her skirts. But her eyes turned quickly back to Bethany.

  “I found her in the stables this morn,” Conall told Tess. “
She’s been with me all day, out training.”

  Tess swung her eyes back to him. “Oh, Conall, is that a good idea? To have her seeing such violence, even if it’s only training?”

  “Aye, ‘tis fine,” Conall explained. “Today was mostly instruction from John and then simple archery practice. I’ve brought her back now so we can get in to some heavier training this afternoon before we leave.”

  Tess nodded, appreciative of his consideration of the child, and pointedly resolved not to consider his imminent departure.

  Just then, a small wasp entered the garden, swooping very near to Bethany’s head and dancing in the air around her. The child’s blue eyes turned owlish in fear and she dashed away from the plants, rushing to Tess, who scooped her up in her arms. “It’s fine, darling,” Tess soothed. “He’s gone, that silly old wasp.” Bethany picked up her head from Tess’s shoulder to glance around. “He wouldn’t hurt you, darling. You’re too sweet. Wasps only like the bitter, sour tasting people. Laird MacGregor has been stung many times,” Tess said tartly, with a saucy glance back at Conall as she took Bethany with her, inside the keep.

  CONALL STOOD FOR A long moment, watching Tess walk away, her step a bit halting yet, as she carried Bethany into the keep. A strange feeling had come over him, something unidentifiable, something he wasn’t sure he could ever remember experiencing before. He didn’t name it immediately, but he explored it in his mind, reliving the last few minutes since he’d approached Tess in the garden.

  He shook his head and looked around the bailey, wondering if anyone could sense that something had happened to him, that something was different. The feeling was so foreign he felt the need to scrutinize it carefully. He’d been pleased himself today when Bethany had, without words, expressed an interest in accompanying him. He’d tried to temper the encouragement he’d felt as she’d stayed so near him around all his soldiers. It wasn’t fear of the large and brutish men that had kept her close, but just a want to be with him. He’d let her hold the large bow and told her one day he would teach her to use it, when she was taller than the piece. If this pleased her, she did not show it, but had seemed interested in the weapon and the training of his men. Then he’d thought to return her to the keep but had noticed Tess in the garden first. So many emotions had played across his mind upon first spying her glorious hair, shining so brightly in the bailey. There was no Ezra, hadn’t been in some time, and yet there she sat, alone, unguarded, seeming to be content with her garden, in his keep. And when she became aware of him and Bethany, her surprise had quickly turned to open delight to see Bethany for the first time in days, and amazingly, he’d watched her joy increase tenfold when Bethany had rushed into her arms. Why had that affected him so, to see that teary pleasure overtake her? Was his own joy determined by hers? And just as he’d struggled with those questions, she’d spoken to him, addressing him only as Conall, as she had only recently begun to do, as if they were familiar. And friendly.

  And then—then!—she’d teased him! As if they were not enemies, as if they had known each other forever. True, it had been for Bethany’s entertainment, or benefit, but she’d smiled at him—saucily, to be sure—but the effect of it was almost...playful?

  “You plan on mooning’ much longer, or will we get to work this day?”

  Conall turned to find John Cardmore atop his own steed, eyeing his chief with what Conall recognized as humored self-satisfaction, and this, too, seemed not to bother Conall at all. He had much to contemplate still, but his captain was right: he couldn’t just hang about like a simpleton all day thinking on Tess’s smile.

  He mounted up, ignoring John Cardmore, and turned the horse around to follow the older man back to the training field. His own thoughtful smile stayed firmly in place for more than half the ride.

  TESS ENTERED HER OWN chamber late that evening, an inner smile still with her. She couldn’t remember a happier day, not for a very, very long time. Bethany had stayed with Tess long after they’d taken leave of Conall. She didn’t think Eagan had minded that she had returned to the kitchens and told him she’d help with some of the day’s work. The cook had agreeably tasked Tess with the beans and broth, and she taught Bethany how to snap off the ends of the pods, tossing the trimmed pieces into a large kettle in which they would boil for the meal. Tess had found a tall stool for the child to stand on. It kept her at waist height at the counter upon which Tess had previously worked. They returned to the garden to fetch the bounty she’d picked earlier, and also gathered mint and parsley, adding that to the kettle, with the beef stock Eagan had provided. While normally Tess might have stirred the large pot whilst it cooked, she removed it from the hot flames so Bethany could use the tall wooden ladle to mix the soup well. Bethany, of course, never said a word, but Tess was quite sure that the little girl’s usually mysterious and haunted expression had been replaced today with pure pleasure.

  Neither Conall nor any of his close advisors were present for the evening meal, so Tess chose to join Angus at the lower table, nearest the hearth. She sat Bethany beside him and watched her stand on the bench seat, to be of a height with Angus, and hover close to him, touching his shoulder while he supped. Angus patted her hand with one of his, while the other attended his meal. Eventually Tess sat the child down and encouraged her to eat as well.

  Serena entered the hall, returned from the village, her cloak and gloves and basket still upon her. She quickly noticed the threesome at the table and approached with a beautiful smile, pulling off her gloves as she came. She kissed Tess’s cheek and laid her basket and gloves upon the table. “I am so happy to see you about, Tess.”

  She sat down and greeted Angus and Bethany, who scrunched up her face at Serena, which caused both women to laugh.

  Serena summoned one of the serving girls and soon had her own meal in front of her. The four of them sat for quite a while, amiably supping together and sharing their day, Tess telling them of all that she and Bethany had done together in the afternoon. While Serena spoke of her very busy day in the village, Tess listened happily and couldn’t help but notice a warmth that surrounded her. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she had a family.

  It was well past dusk now, but Tess wasn’t thinking of sleep, her mind still reliving the events of the day. She was waiting for Conall, wondering if he might seek her out, debating if she dared approach his chamber. She wanted to discuss all that had happened and ask for more details about his time with Bethany, ask him what he thought it all meant, if he thought it might continue.

  She thought to ready herself for bed but put that off until she saw Conall. She spent a bit of time unplaiting her hair and combing through the length of it with her fingers, for lack of a brush. She had not quite finished this when the door opened, and Conall entered.

  Tess jumped up immediately, flinging her hair over her shoulder, meeting him as he closed the heavy door behind him.

  Though she could barely contain her eagerness, Conall actually spoke first.

  “Why are you no downstairs, lass?”

  “Downstairs?” She titled her head, her brow crinkling. “Oh,” and she waved a hand, “it was time I returned here.” And giving that no more thought, she charged on, her smile bright, “Conall, just wait until I tell you about my day!” She grabbed his forearm in her excitement to have his ear. “Bethany spent the entire afternoon with me. I taught her how to make the beans and broth. And she stirred the pot—her little hands could barely move the spoon around the big kettle.” Tess gave a little laugh. “Oh, but I think she loved it! And then,” she continued, “she helped me chop up all the mint and—”

  Conall kissed her—suddenly, simply—took her face in his hands and kissed her. It was rather sloppy and took Tess completely by surprise, but she didn’t resist. Oh, my, where has this come from? raced through her mind, but was quickly expelled by the feel of him, the taste of him. It was needful and urgent, his mouth devouring her as he had not in so long.

  Tess answered in kind
, swept up instantly, her hands still on his forearms, now gripping tightly, opening her mouth to him. She felt, before she heard, the low growl that emerged from somewhere deep in his chest. Conall skimmed those hands down her neck, and across her shoulders, sliding them around her back, forcing her to move her own arms and hands, unconsciously sliding them higher to wrap around his neck, curling her fingers into his hair.

  She tasted wine on his tongue as it moved around hers. Still not quite sure about the proper form, or the rules for kissing, she could only follow his lead. She did what he did, pulled him closer, kissed him back, and found herself wanting more.

  And then he stopped. He pulled back, breathing forcefully into her face, and put her at arm’s length. Tess looked into his eyes, but couldn’t read anything, wasn’t sure what she thought she saw—control? Lack of? Hunger? His jaw clenched. He dropped his arms and walked around her. Tess stayed as she was, confused, facing the door, wondering what she might have done wrong.

  She shook her head. “No,” she said firmly.

  From behind her, after a moment, “No?”

  “No,” she repeated and turned to face him, but he’d sat near the fire, his hands splayed out on his thighs, his eyes on the small flames. “No, you can’t do that. You can’t ruin this day for me,” she told him, the words, the thoughts tumbling out, unformed.

  He’d raised his eyes to her, giving a rather irreverent laugh.

  “It was such a beautiful day. I was so happy. And you’re trying to ruin it—”

  “That’s why I stopped—”

  “But I don’t want you to stop,” this, vehemently, and, as attested by her expression, surprisingly.